She's the One
by Tatiana Myrtia Rose
Summary: He reflects on what she means to him with four simple words he never expected to hear from her.


_I do not own Gundam SEED._

**She's The One**

"Do you love me?"

Four simple words, four simple words that sent him almost choking on his breakfast. He looked up at the brunette who asked the question to find her looking curiously over at him.

"What?!"

"You heard me, do you love me?"

He made to stand up, but his legs just wouldn't cooperate. His teeth clenched, and he looked up at her purple-blue eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about? Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?!" he yelled exasperatedly, trying to sound as aggravated as he could. Yet, with only his shirt on, she looked every bit alluring as she looked last night when his hormones were, well, out of control.

"So what we had was just sex. Wow, didn't know that." She said as she studied her nails. Yes, that's what she did as she leant on the doorframe of the balcony where he was, sipping his favorite Jamaican black coffee…

"Give it a break, woman. That was just for one night, be contended with that," he said, trying to hide his blush. Yes. He might be cool and calm, but this was an exception. The woman was just too sarcastic for her own good that she hit where it hurt. Yes, they did the deed last night, and it was, well, what he could describe as the best. The best of all the experiences he had, that's right.

She cocked her head to the side and shrugged. "Oh well. Suit yourself. I want to have breakfast. And your mother left a message on the answering machine."

"What did she say?"

She shrugged. "Plain 'how are you'. Funny I never knew you're mother calls you 'sweetheart'."

At that he blushed and looked up at her again as she made her way to the kitchen.

"SHUT UP!!"

===***===***

She loved his scandalized expression. She always wanted to see that on his face. You see, he's been bossing her around since the war days and he still does, even now. So that was the reason why she loved teasing him to oblivion. Yes. It was sweet victory.

Last night was unexpected, and though he was gentle enough—a deceiving part, he wasn't at all gentle with her during the other times, it still hurt. Yet there was something in him that he showed her last night, and she was sure he won't show her again.

_Nope, he's stubborn like that,_ she told herself as she fixed herself something to eat.

And then it struck her.

_Why the hell am I actually caring?_

**==**==

He gasped at the momentum of what she had said. Actually, those words still rang in his ears and it didn't help one bit that he was already thinking hard at what she had asked.

Well, there was nothing really special, he reasoned, I do not love that woman.

He stood up and walked towards the answering machine at the corridor. Ye sof course, he didn't feel anything in particular about that woman, all was just annoyance at how close she always came to his problems. Yes, that was irritating. Was he that easy to read, like his mother had told him? Or was he becoming a softy that he couldn't berate her anymore to just, "Fuck off"?

He shook his head slightly and pressed a button on the machine.

"_Good morning! How was your first night, sweetheart? I just have to remind you, the fitting is tomorrow at nine. You should be here by eight-thirty, OK? All right then, good day! Mom here."_

Oh yes, of course. Fitting.

HE pictured the woman in a white, lacy gown walking down the aisle just a few weeks more. Oh yes. Oh yes. That's right. He was getting hitched to that freaking woman who was fixing herself a snack in _his_ kitchen.

This was, well, bad.

No, he wasn't a romantic that would want to get married to his one true love. Yes. Marriage didn't even cross his mind till three weeks ago, when his mother had engaged him to that woman. He was used to being single, and he knows that he was still too young to get hitched. Well, if you still consider twenty-eight young.

He sighed again, a sigh he never knew he was holding. For the past three weeks he had to follow his mother's orders of keeping the girl in his apartment before the wedding. Now where was the purity virtuoso he knew ever since he was a kid? She seemed to disappear.

"_You're getting married anyway, sweetheart_", his mother had said, using the firm yet convincing tone she always used to convince him to come in and play inside when he was a kid.

So he had no choice but to agree.

So he had to endure the rest of his life with a sassy woman, like _her_.

But to be perfectly honest, the woman had some good points, too. She knows when not to aggravate him, she knows when to put those remarks that would send him blushing, she knows when to give him the coffee he likes. He knows every little thing about him.

And for a span of three weeks, he knew something he was terribly sure of:

She was so damn good in making him smile.

Yes. Having marriage not on his mind, he also has a certain type—he wants someone that could make him laugh, smile, and debate with o certain occasions. And surprisingly enough, she was the perfect blend of all the things that he wants in a woman. For three weeks since he met her, she had made him smile for random reasons, even during the times when she wasn't physically there. And that was a warning note.

No, to make it clear, he doesn't love her.

Or does he?

One time when she tumbled down the stairs and had to be in cast for a week, he was the one who worried the most. The time when she didn't come home towards the wee hours of the morning, he was the one to look for her in panic that something might have happened bad, only to find her in her office, still working.

She was a hardheaded person, and he liked her for that.

She was the counter to his being, the one who was like his complement, one person whose company he knew, even if he didn't get along very well with her, he would enjoy, just because.

He felt his lips curl into a smile, and he had to laugh. There, she made him smile again without her very presence in front of him.

The woman was unique.

==**==**

He found her standing behind the kitchen counter, eating what it seemed like Froot Loops in a bowl, swimming amongst the milk. She had a weird fetish for milk, he noted.

"You better get ready, Ezalia would be expecting us soon." She said, seemingly knowing he was standing right behind her.

He smirked. "Tell that to yourself, woman, Mom wouldn't appreciate you in nothing but my t-shirt on if she saw you."

She turned around and gave him her winningest smirk. "Of course."

And unknown to him, he already enclosed her in his arms. Yes, he had to admit, she already claimed his heart in a way he never knew. Well, with her, everything goes.

"Get dressed," he whispered. "Make yourself beautiful, okay?"

At last, finished it!!


End file.
